Saturday, 28 March 2015

Materials:
1. Whole wood apple fruit (also known as cannon ball fruit, bel in hindi).
2. A good, sharp file.
3. Paint (Fabric or poster colors) and size 0 / 1 paint brushes.
4. Cardboard.
5. Black chart paper or plain white paper.
6. Glue.
7. Little paper flowers, buttons or any accessory suitable as a decorating item.Method:
1. Crack open the wood apple fruit into two halves.
2. Scrape out the pulp (you can eat the pulp or use it as a household cleaner).
3. Because the rind never breaks evenly, you will need to file it a little until a perfect circle is achieved.
4. Wash the rind halves and let them sun-dry.
5. Meanwhile, cut the cardboard into square / rectangular pieces large enough to hold the rind halves.
6. Wrap the pieces in black chart paper. Alternatively, you can also use white paper and paint it in black.
7. Take the sun-dried rinds and paint them in different patterns of your choice. Don't forget to paint the inner surface of the rinds. Let the paint dry completely.
8. Take each rind and stick it to the cardboard wrapped in black / painted paper.
9. Decorate as shown in the picture.

Presto! Your candle stand is ready! Use it or give it to someone you love, as a gift. :)

Jani had her home in a slum. Her mother
used to sit underneath a canopy at the turning of the small alley which
ran across the blighted area, selling small stuffs. Her income was
meager. Some extra money would pour in once in a blue moon, and there
would occasionally be provision for tea as well. Jani had always seen
that routine, her mother never tiring and setting up her little shop
every morning with new hope. She had never seen a life beyond those
dusty streets and dingy huts. Her mother would narrate stories about the
city to her, about the big tall buildings, the buses and cars, the busy
streets and the orange street-lights, the fancy restaurants and flashy
shops, and she would dream about being there someday. The house she was
living in was a one room accommodation with a leaky roof and brick
walls, matted with ages of black soot. There was a small bed in the
corner with a soiled bed-sheet covering it. There was no money to buy
another and so they slept on it ever. A rainy day would be tough and
they would spend hours putting buckets under the leaks, emptying and
re-filling all the while and praying for the downpour to stop. Dinner
would usually be a plate of white rice at most, and on more fortunate
days, they would have lentils and some vegetables. Life was difficult
for them, but they were content. Jani’s mother had stitched a cloth doll
for her sixth birthday. The little girl adored it and would show it off
to her friends, comb its hair, offer it false food and sleep with it by
her side at night. She never parted with her doll. She would enjoy the
attention of her friends and would spend hours boasting about her prized
possession.

Monsoon had settled in, the rain bringing with it a lot of
distress that year. The gutter nearby was overflowing with stinking
murky water. The area was flooded and dirty, diseases spreading and
people dropping like flies. There were frequent visits from NGOs and
relief centers. But the scene was going from bad towards worse.
Medicines didn’t suffice and food was scanty. Jani’s mother too, was
down with high fever, some kind of deadly flu, the doctors said. She had
become pale and thin. The free medicines had failed to work and the
poor girl didn’t know what to do. A night after the relief camp had
withdrawn her mother’s condition worsened. She kept throwing up the
whole night, her feet cold and body shivering. Jani was scared to sleep
with her. So, she slept on the floor with the doll by her side and
lulled herself to sleep. Her mother died that night; Jani was left all
alone.

The coming days were tough for Jani to cope up. Initially, the
neighbors would pity her and offer food from their small shares. But as
the days passed, the warmth in their voice lessened. The shortage of and
greed for a full time meal and all the bitterness of their miseries had
hardened their hearts. The rain had got heavy and the roof leakier than
before, and finally one ill-starred night, it crashed. Poor Jani had no
shelter now. Though she had survived the accident, she knew that there
was more discomfort coming her way. She hugged her doll tightly to her
bosom and cried the whole night, fighting the rain and cursing her fate,
wishing she were dead, and at the crack of the dawn, she made up her
mind to leave the slum forever, oblivious of the future.

So, she bundled her belongings up in the soiled bed-sheet. There
wasn’t much to carry. Just few old clothes, a stale piece of cooked
meat, which one of her neighbors had once offered, a packet of white
chalk which her mother had given long back, and her favorite, the cloth
doll. As she walked past the small alley, Jani remembered the good old
days with her mother and her friends. She approached the turning where
her mother used to set her canopy up. The rain had swept away the
temporary set-up, leaving only a pool of mud instead. The oilcloth that
her mother had once used to save the puny shop from rains was half
buried in mud, and a stray dog sat there, happily munching on a bone.
She envied the dog with all heart. She tried to chase it away, suddenly
feeling immensely possessive about the thing that once belonged to her
mother. But the animal was reluctant. It gave a huge carefree yawn and
reverted back to its chewing. She tried a few more times, but failed.
Jani was frustrated, her heart heavy with the failure to retrieve her
mother’s oilcloth. Just as she was about to give up and leave, the dog
came to her wagging its tail. It had smelled the meat in her bundle.
But, Jani didn’t have the slightest idea about canine behavior and gave a
feeble attempt to shoo it away, confused and scared. But there was a
sudden sharp bark in reply, giving her a strong panic attack. The dog
plunged upon her bundle in an attempt to discover what it had smelled.
Jani freaked out and after a brief struggle managed to tear the bundle
out of its mouth. A terrified Jani then ran for her life, clasping her
bundle tightly and not daring to look back.

Exhausted and shaken by the unexpected aggression, she arrived at
the city at mid noon. It was exactly how her mother had described it to
be- busy and flashy ever. She found her place underneath a peepal tree
growing near the road-side. There was a woman selling fruits at a
distance. She had tied her one-year old baby boy by his right foot to
the lamp-post nearby, restraining him from wandering into the streets,
and was busy attending to the customers. Her voice was hoarse and she
sweated even in the shade all day long. The fruits in her basket
reminded Jani of her empty stomach. She opened up her package hoping to
find the piece of meat. But there was no meat. There was a large tear in
the bed sheet. So, the dog had succeeded in its attempt after all! She
searched for her other belongings. She had her frocks and the packet of
chalk intact. But, her treasure, the doll was gone! That night, she
slept underneath the tree with the bundle as her pillow, crying in
hunger and despair, chewing the chalk pieces she had and longing for her
cloth doll by her side and had a dream about her mother narrating
stories about the big city.

A tickle in the ear woke Jani up early morning. It was the dog
from the slum licking her face. It had followed her to the city and was
now sitting beside her, wagging its tail, its tongue out. The previous
day’s tiff was still fresh in her mind and this time Jani was more angry
than frightened. The beast had stolen her food and taken her dear doll.
With much spite, she grabbed a stone lying nearby and threw it at its
head. The dog let out a weak whimper and skipped a few steps back.
Satisfied, Jani went back to sleep. A few moments later she felt the
tickle again. Annoyed and disgusted, she got up to hit the dog again and
stopped suddenly. It was her doll; the dog was holding it in its mouth.
It came towards her, this time with more caution, and settled near her,
putting the toy at her feet. Jani was viewing the whole drama silently
and could not believe her eyes. She had found her doll again. And she
had found a new friend as well. She patted the dog’s head and said,
“Thank you. Will you stay here with me? I’ll call you Kala”. The dog
rested its head on her lap. Kala had reciprocated her love.

The next day started bright for Jani. An apple had accidentally
rolled down from the woman’s basket into the streets. She had found it
while taking a stroll nearby and taken it to her place. Kala had found a
bone to chew upon. A light breeze was blowing and they were dozing off
under the cool shade of the tree. Kala would raise his ears once in a
while, paying attention to the slightest of sounds. But, Jani was soon
in a deep slumber, dreaming about her life in the slum. She saw herself
in her mother’s sari, the cloth doll in her arms and Kala following her,
barking at a neighbor of hers. Then she saw her home. Someone was
cooking inside the kitchen, might be her mother. Just as she was about
to call her from behind, she felt a tight slap on her face and woke up
with a start. The fruit seller lady was standing there, anger showing
all over her dark face. Jani noticed her black unclean teeth and fuzzy
hair and shuddered. “You took the apple from the streets, didn’t you?”,
the lady inquired, dominance distinct in her tone. She gave a nod and
there was a slap again. “Now pay for it”, screamed the lady. “But I
don’t have any money”, Jani answered, a little frightened. The lady was
furious now. “I don’t sit here all day to do charity! If you don’t have
money, give me something else. Show me what you have in that dirty pack
of yours”, she pointed towards her bundle. Jani quietly opened it. Kala
was watching her with great observance. The lady ransacked the bundle,
scrutinizing the things in it, until her eyes fell on the cloth doll.
She took it in her hands and muttered to herself, “My son is going to
love this”. She turned towards Jani and bluntly said, “I’ll take this.”
The poor girl was already in tears. That was her mother’s last gift. She
could never part with it, never. She snatched it back from the lady and
snapped, “Anything, but this.” Jani’s words were like a huge blow on
the fruit seller’s superiority. Enraged, she put her hands forward in an
attempt to grab the doll from her. But Kala was already alert. He
pounced upon the lady, almost pinning her to the ground. The lady was in
a state of shock. Kala’s sharp barks left her no choice but to leave
the place. After she was gone, Jani hugged Kala and thanked him, and
promised never to leave him.

That evening, Kala was run down by a car. Jani was outside a
baker’s shop, picking up a half eaten cake from the dustbin nearby when
she heard the brakes screech. Kala was dead by the time she reached. His
intestines were out and bathed in blood. The car driver geared off not
bothering to look at what had come under the wheels. Passersby did a
"tch-tch" and a "tchu-tchu" and went away. The fruit seller lady gave a
sinister smile and was back to her business, shouting in her hoarse
voice even more enthusiastically. Suddenly, the city no longer seemed
like what her mother had described. Jani cried by his side till
midnight, indifferent to the dust and the traffic in the streets. She
had lost a friend.

Early in the morning, when the road was empty and the dust had
died down, Jani slowly went to the peepal tree and brought back her
soiled bed-sheet. She picked up the bits and parts of Kala’s cold body
and carefully wrapped it up in the cloth. She took him back to the tree
and started digging the ground with her bare hands. But the ground was
coarse and Jani was just a child with not enough strength. Even after a
couple of hours of desperate struggle she could still not dig enough
earth to lay Kala’s rotting body. The sun beams were slowly dawning
through the darkness. The street lights were dimming down and cars and
buses were beginning to run again. Jani noticed that the fruit seller
was back with her baby. Keeping the previous day’s tiff and all her fear
aside, she went to her and asked, “Can you help me out? I need to dig
the ground to bury my pet dog.” The lady looked at her as if she were a
criminal. “Go to hell! Both you and your flea bag!”, she thundered. Jani
thought for a moment and said again, “Please, I know you didn’t like
him. But he is dead now.” After few seconds of silence the lady said,
“Fine. I have a knife. But you’ll get it only when you give me the doll.
And yes, give me the knife as soon as possible. I have a lot of work to
do. I don’t sit here all day to solve other’s problems.” Jani nodded a
silent yes.

So her mother’s last gift was soon gone. A grave was dug out neatly
for Kala and he was rested in it. Jani was heart-broken and silent. She
wept by his grave and slept by his side that night. And, she dreamed of
being at her home again. And in her dreams she saw her mother in the
kitchen, cooking for her. She smiled at her and welcomed her with open
arms, “Where were you Jani? I’ve waited for so long and missed you so
much. I’m glad that you’ve returned”. Jani felt the warmth of her
mother’s cosy bosom.

It had been raining for two days at a stretch. My usually bright room had started to look gloomy and there was a light stench of rotten food in the air. I guess it was coming from the common garbage heap outside.

No, not the neighbors’ fault. It was just those municipality people. Well, they hardly showed up. And adding to my woes, there was no electricity in the locality. The place I used to love had suddenly become a pain in the rear. I had lost my umbrella and there was no way I could go out or call a friend over. I was bored to death and helpless. My phone was dead, the battery in the laptop all drained out. I was hungry, but there wasn’t any food in the refrigerator. All I found were some old biscuit and a big, dusty packet of noodles. Not bothering to check the expiry date, I just cooked some and gobbled up a bowlful. Nothing so far had tasted any better, I swear. Satisfied and full, I lazily dumped the bowl in the sink and myself on my cosy bed.

Sleep is a tempting state, I must say. All the big pour and the gray room were slowly taking me into a deep slumber. I was enjoying it....lazy me! I wasn’t bothered about anything then, not about the not-so-favorable times, not about the mountain of work back at the office and not even about my nagging mother. I was actually feeling good that the phone wasn’t working. At least I didn’t have to stand the curt remarks of my boss or answer my mother’s hourly rings to inquire if I was okay.

Then suddenly, shattering all my peace, came a huge knock at the door. I sat up on my bed, almost getting a brain freeze. Pissed off and bitter, I reluctantly went to the door and checked through the peephole. It was a child, a boy, 10-12 years of age, all drenched in rain. He knocked again and this time with more desperation. His hands were muddy and so were his torn clothes, eyes sunken deep into the orbits, face unclean and feet without shoes.

Beggar! I thought. Of late, the locality had been facing this problem of bugging beggars. I was pissed off more! Just as he was about to knock again, I opened the door sharply. “What do you want?”, I snapped at him. He was taken aback and slowly put a shaky hand forward, too terrified to speak. “I don’t have money. Now go”, I snapped again and slammed the door. I checked again. He was still there, much in a state of shock. Then, suddenly he gathered himself slowly walked away. I watched him till he was gone, and then I heard a faint cry... “I was just....hungry."

A sudden surge of guilt overpowered me. I opened the door again. But he was already gone, the rain making it impossible to see further. That night, I could not sleep at all. I tossed and turned on my bed like an insomniac, wishing I had taken back my words. I could have given him my share of noodles, maybe the whole packet. I could have made him take a bath and give those sunken eyes some sleep. I was full of remorse. The rain was slowing down and electricity was back. All the possible reasons of my gloom were gone. But, my mind wasn’t calm. Time and again I could hear his voice, mocking me, cursing and taunting me. What had I done??

Morning came like a sharp blade of heat. The rain was gone, my room bright again. I had stayed up the whole night and was feeling sluggish. Nevertheless, I got up from bed, took a bath and had a quick breakfast of my old biscuits. I was having a terrible headache and desperately needed a painkiller. So, I dressed up and headed towards the chemist shop nearby. The streets were still muddy, but the grass was cleaner and greener. The rotten food in the garbage heap was still stinking. And, I could see a small gathering of people, probably discussing the issue.

As I was walking past them, I heard one of them say, “He must have eaten something from the dustbin.” With a thud in my heart I stopped and turned towards the heap. There he was, lying near a trash bag, a rotten piece of bread in his muddy palm. His mouth was slightly open, a layer of whitish foam dripping, and his sunken eyes, wide open. He was looking at me....yes, at me, questioning, accusing. I could not take it any longer. It was as if the sky was crashing onto me, my surrounding fading. The ground no longer held me firm. I was blacking out.

This particular institute has link ups with the Sri Aurobindo Ashram of Pondicherry, Tamil Nadu. So, you'll find pictures and symbols of Sri Aurobindo and The Mother everywhere. One thing which is bound to attract any layman like me towards the ashram is the ambiance. Its very peaceful and quiet. There are rows and rows of flowers (you aren't supposed to pluck them!) and a big meditation hall. Once you're near it, you can smell the fragrance of burning incense in the air. The inside of the meditation hall is beautiful, all wood finish. Avoid making any kind of loud sound as it is against the ashram rules.

My experience inside was no less than reading a Dan Brown novel. There's a big metal circle at the center of the hall, decorated with flowers. They call it the "Symbol of Center of Education", the effective manifestation of Ishwara (God) and Ishwari (Goddess) in union. Tough to understand, I know.

To decode this symbol, you need to understand the other two very important symbols, Sri Aurobindo's symbol and the Mother's symbol. Sri Aurobindo's symbol is represented by an ascending and a descending triangle.

Photo source: http://www.sriaurobindoashram.com

It is explained as: "The descending triangle represents Sat-Chit-Ananda. The ascending triangle represents the aspiring answer from matter under the form of life, light and love. The junction of both - the central square - is the perfect manifestation having at its center the Avatar of the Supreme - the lotus. The water - inside the square - represents the multiplicity, the creation."

Again, the Mother's symbol is a circle with petals.

Photo source: http://www.sriaurobindoashram.com

This also has an explanation, "The central circle represents the Divine Consciousness. The four petals represent the four powers of the Mother. The twelve petals represent the twelve powers of the Mother manifested for Her work."

Sitting beside the Symbol of Center of Education

Leaving the heavy topics aside, the ashram is a wonderful place. It has a large conference hall and shops which are known as "Divine shops". You can buy a variety of items which come all the way from Pondicherry! My personal choice is Auroshikha agarbatti. Try it...its wonderful!

There's a duplex inside the ashram and they call it "Meera Cottage". Its a guest house. So you can book your stay there and enjoy. They also have dormitories and a clean canteen too.

Sri Aurobindo Institute of Indian Culture is much more than what I've described. Intellectual or not, you are sure to love the place. So the next time when you are in Meghalaya, go to Bivar Road, Shillong and do visit the place. I bet that you'll get a lot of things to ransack the Internet for!! :)

New Market...I’ll call it the shopaholics’ heaven. Old, famous and
busy ever, this place is just where you’ll want to be if you are on a shopping
spree. Also known as the Hogg market, this place has everything, yes, everything
to offer. From food corners to jewelery shops to gadgets and gizmos, well, the
list is endless, and that too under one roof! Bargain as much as you want here.
It is THIS liberal!

Once you are there, just devour the whole of the
market...there are over 2000 shops. Girls! You will find shiny jewelery stores
offering you earrings, from the tiniest studs to large jhumkas, bangles from a large range of colors, neck pieces, bling
blings, anklets, toe rings and what not! Match these with your clothes and
wear! Speaking of clothes, you’ll also get a wide range of clothes, from kurtis
and leggings, to saris, salwar kameez, tops and t-shirts, pullovers, jackets
and belts, jeans, gowns and the list goes on. Further, you’ll never get soft
toys as cheap as in here.

So, if you love to own and display a huge bunch of
these at your home, like I do, then New Market is the name! And guys don’t
panic. You have your share too! You get all kind of gizmos you were dying to
own. Don’t have money for an I-pod?? That’s OK. You’ll get something as good as
that in New Market! You have a wide range of footwear too, from simple sandals
to kolhapuris to high heels, shoes
and boots. And buying bags, small or big, clutches or backpacks, athletic bags
or baguettes, laptop bags or slings, is always welcome and never regretted! And
don’t only keep searching just on the surface. There is an underground shopping mall too, the Simpark
mall, fully air conditioned and elegant. I bet you’ll not want to come out of
it.

Once you are done with your shopping, you can enjoy a
glass of fresh lime soda or the more natural lemon juice with pudina. Taste Kolkata’s age old
delicacy...phuchkas with tamarind
water. Lick a kala khatta. Enjoy a
cup of lemon tea at the entrance of Simpark mall. Actually you can comfortably
sit there and sip while the wind blows. Have authentic biryani with raita in
restaurant Aminia or Nizam’s and do order a pudding in your desserts. But for a
better taste of desserts, visit “Scoop”. You can also go for Bengali food in
Kasturi or Radhuni restaurant. Chicken and pizza lovers, you will not want to miss
Dominos and KFC here, right?? Try momos at “Wow! Momos”. Ice cream and fruit
juices corners are everywhere. Beat the heat with these. Well, I have listed
just a few. There are lots more. Just explore and discover! There’s even a
fruit and vegetable market. Go on....try this as well!

So travelers, remember this
address. Its Lindsay Street, Esplanade, Dharmatala, Kolkata. Have a happy and
safe stay! Shop till you drop and smile!

There's this little town in the temple city of Odisha, hugely famous for its applique work. Beautiful lampshades, colorful hand bags, bright wall hangings, letter holders, little purses, cushion covers, bed sheets, umbrellas, you name it and you have it! The market place itself is a distinct heaven of colors. Have you noticed the photographs below??

The market place of Pipili

The shops at Pipili

Applique work of Pipili is actually patching cloth design in other words. The locals have named the art form as 'Chandua'. So, what they generally do is cut pieces of colored cloths into various beautiful shapes and apply these onto another cloth called the master fabric.

Wall decors inside a shop

The themes have usually originated from the temple city. So, you'll notice a lot of items with the art work depicting Lord Jagannath, specially the wall hangings. No ritual inside the temples in Odisha is completed without a Pipili Chandua. Even the great Chariot festival of Odisha known as the Rath Yatra demands canopies and umbrellas from Pipili. This famous place has also etched its name in the Limca Book of Records to have manufactured the 'Longest Thematic Applique Work' of 54 meters in the year 2004.

Colorful lamp shades

The most spectacular of all the art work in Pipili are the lamp shades. Complement these with a bulb and the decor's even more beautiful. You can also go for the multicolored umbrellas designed with Pipili art work. And then you have bedsheets, handbags and carpets too!

Don't hesitate to spend your money on one of these. In fact you can buy as many as you want! The price is going to be easy on the pocketbook. I mean it's flatteringly cheap. :) Buy anything here and that too without burning a hole in your pocket!!

And yes, when you actually happen to visit this place, do give a sure shot look inside the shop and the workshop as well. The workers toil day and night to create the beauty that you see outside. Respect for such hard-working beings!

Workers in action at a shop

Devi Applique Workshop is one particular shop here that I love. Not that the other shops aren't that good. In fact, some other shops are even better. But, the shopkeeper here, Mr. Dilip Bera, is one interesting guy. He'll never let you go empty handed. Now don't feel conned! He's a good salesman! And what's more! He even offers free gifts sometimes. ;)

Mr. Dilip Bera, the ever-smiling shopkeeper

A beautiful piece of Pipili art work

So, don't miss Pipili if you happen to visit Odisha this time. It is one of the most famous amongst all Odisha tourist places Do shop a lot there! I'll go, check my new Pipili buys! You know, I cant resist myself from checking the stuff again and again. Tempting, these are! :) I'm seriously Pipili-fied now! Tada!

Can you imagine riding a king-size bed, or a helmet, or even a cigarette on road for real? No?? Well then, you are in for a surprise at Sudha Car Museum, the only hand-made and absolutely wacky car museum in the entire universe!! A pun in the name, Sudha Car Museum actually derives its identity from Mr. K. Sudhakar. Hold on! This guy had manufactured a ginormous red tricycle, the largest in the world, which found a place in the Guinness World Record! Eyes popping out?? :) Check the picture on your right....!! Yes, that's the one!

So, I was in the pearl city some years back when this museum happened to me (thanks to the boring conference in HiTech City :P). Though the air-conditioned hall in International Convention Centre sounded cosy, Sudhar Car museum was much more refreshing and unconventional.

Walk around the place and you'll find weird looking vehicles, bikes, cars, buses, cycles...all in working conditions!! As a matter of fact, you may catch a glimpse of some of these running on road! You'll see footballs, tennis balls, cricket balls, a whole snooker board, a Nikon DSLR, a shivling, a toilet-seat, a computer, a cup-and-saucer, a giant Christmas tree, a big yellow bed, a giant wheel....take a break.....its a huge list! Wait, all of these are vehicles! Sudha Cars had made a Rolls Royce out of a 1100 cc engine! And a computer car out of a Kinetic Honda engine! And had come up with a 60 kmpl condom car specially for the World AIDS day! Oh.My.God!! It was amazing enough to not let me have a second thought about the camera fee. Yes, photography is chargeable! But, I took as many as I wanted. These, I am sharing with you all. Experience creativity, people! :)

Something very cute was discovered! Click!

So the next time you are in Hyderabad, make sure you visit this place. The address is 19-5-10/3/A, Bahadurpura, Hyderabad, Andhra Pradesh 500064! Hyderabad reminds me of yummy biryani. I'll go and get some now. Stay updated for more posts... :)

In India, Saratotsav or Durga Puja, the annual Hindu festival, is most celebrated in Kolkata. The city of joy becomes busy and is all lit up for the occasion.

The shiny pandals, elegant idols, the aroma of burning incense, the chanting of mantras, the dhakis playing their dhaks, together take you into a deep trance.

As the festive season approaches, there’s a small place in the city itself, which becomes even busier. Kumortuli (a.k.a Kumartuli), or the potters' town, is the place where the beautiful idols are hand crafted, hued and adorned.

It’s been alive for more than 300 years and not only has it grown old, but also gained immense fame with the passage of time.

Source: www.photoburst.net

Kumortuli is not a fancy place at all. In fact you’ll encounter a lot of narrow lanes and muddy streets. Most of the shops are in dilapidated conditions, with leaky roofs and dirty floors, work space poorly lit and damp.

But, if you are an ardent art lover, you’ll forget your discomfort and awe at the stupendous creations. Look around! There are idols everywhere, some as small as your palm, others as tall as 15 feet! The idols are supplied in places all over Kolkata and even abroad.

There are other shops too, which sell the weapons and other accessories needed to decorate the idols. Photography is allowed, but not without a fee. Visit any time round the year, and enjoy this unique place, especially during the Durga Pujas.

Source: www.flickr.com

Now,making idols is not a piece of cake, we all know that. The techniques of this age old practice have been passed on from one generation to the next in Kumortuli, and the fire, thus, kept alive. Long, tedious hours of labor, immense patience and teamwork can only give rise to a complete idol.

Firstly, the framework of bamboo and straw is made, upon which wet clay is applied. The clay mostly comes from the river bank nearby and the ritual is that the first handful of clay should come from a prostitute’s house.

Layering the clay is the toughest part. It has to be thoroughly mixed so that it doesn’t loosen and fall off. Cracks appear when the clay dries. So, pieces of cloth are soaked in clay and wrapped around these cracks.

The next step is the painting of the idol. An initial coat of white color is applied to the structure, followed by a yellow one and lastly a red one. All these colors are earth colors, which are found as such in nature. After this, the detailed painting session starts.

The idol makers of Kumortuli paint the eyes of Goddess Durga last, following the tradition of Chokkhu Daan on the day of Mahalaya, which is a week before the pujas. The idols are finally varnished, false hair glued, dressed and decorated.

Source: www.durgapujaonline.com

And, after so much of struggle and earnest endeavors, it’s painful to watch the idols being given away to the holy Ganges on the day of Vijayadashami. Sadly, this is the tradition, which has to go on forever.

Leaving the dark side aside, Kumortuli is a wonderful place, an endless tale of history and culture and an apt destination for all the lovers of aesthetics. When are you visiting it?